


Of Airports and Umbrellas

by viraseii



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dating, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Kissing in the Rain, M/M, Mistletoe, Mutual Pining, Pining, Prom, Sharing a Bed, Sharing an umbrella, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow Dancing, Temporary Amnesia, Tropes, or studying for ib tests
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-13
Updated: 2018-08-23
Packaged: 2019-05-06 03:45:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14633418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/viraseii/pseuds/viraseii
Summary: Study partners. They’restudypartners.And Lance is about to learn a lot more than just physics from Keith.Because they’re not just study partners, they’re rivals and sharing an umbrella and on prom court and falling in-Alternately: in which we hit every high school romance trope conceivable in one fic





	1. 9.8 m/s^2

**Author's Note:**

> Proofreading is fake news

Lance’s day is going absolutely _fine_ until Keith shows up. Like, really, pretty good. He skips first period because racket sports is such a skippable period, honestly. Everyone aces that class, and Lance hates pickleball, so... _so,_ really, a FINE day. He has his pumpkin spice latte. Life is great. After first period is English which is always pretty nice too.

Then, like, physics.

“Fuck this class, fuck this class, fuck this class,” Lance sings, arms crossed over his chest as he walks with Pidge.

“You know, Lance, it’s not hard if you pay attention when she’s teaching,” she huffs, raising her eyebrows at him pointedly. She's probably tired of Lance's incessant complaining about physics, but - really, fuck that class.

“Are you kidding? Montgomery is the _worst._ Nothing coming out of her mouth ever makes sense,” Lance scoffs. He turns around, walking backwards into the classroom. “One moment it’s, the book falls, the next moment we’re rolling balls down ramps? Tell me where the connection is!”

Pidge sighs, opening her mouth, but Lance makes frantic gestures at her to stop talking. “Nope! No! No no no, zip those lips. There is none. No connection.”

“The _connection_ -"

And then Keith shows up and physics is officially Lance’s least favorite class. More than before. Like, it already was. But now?

It’s already annoying enough that he has to take down chairs in this class. Lance feels like upperclassmen should be exempt from taking down chairs. Montgomery works half days only, so she has no first or second period classes, which means even if Lance’s first class is fucking _racket sports,_ he’s still gotta pull fucking chairs off desks. Which, okay, not a big deal, but it’s annoying.

But obviously the chairs have some vendetta against him because while his arms are up waving in Pidge’s face, he misses her eyes widening as he crashes backwards into the very person he can’t stand, who’s in the middle of taking down his chair.

His arms fly out as he loses his balance, a loud crash resounding as Keith drops the chair and it clatters first to the desk, and then the floor. Before anything registers in Lance’s brain, Keith spins around, hands out on instinct, wrapping around Lance to break his fall. One slips into the space between back and backpack, the other awkwardly finding its hold on Lance’s chest, steadying them both. Lance winces, grabbing onto Keith’s shoulders to catch himself, accidentally getting one knuckle into his mouth in his fumbling.

His heart explodes in his chest at the sudden change in gravity, stomach flipping. Then he realizes exactly _who_ he’s sharing the same breathing space with -

“What the hell,” Lance splutters, immediately trying to get away from him. Keith stumbles, knocking down another chair and then both of them are falling - the ground smacks hard into Lance’s elbow as he cringes, balance nothing but an unattainable dream, legs entwined somehow with Keith’s as they both crash into off-white linoleum.

“Ugh,” Keith groans from on top of him.

“Ow!” Lance scowls, clutching his funny bone as something numbingly sharp bleeds slowly up his arm. He winces. "You tripped me!”

Keith squints down at Lance, pushing himself up on his arm. “You walked into me! I was trying _not_ to fall!” His voice cracks with incredulousness.

Lance chooses to forego offering up a comeback in favor of curling around his elbow as his arm melts into pain. “You’ve broken me,” he gasps. “I’m suing.”

Keith huffs. “You knocked me over.”

“He needs some milk!” yells a voice over their heads.

“ _Fuck you,_ Spencer!” Lance shouts. Merina is already picking up the chairs Keith knocked over, righting them before she offers a hand to Keith.

“Need help?”

Keith just frowns and pulls away from Lance, standing. Lance pouts and takes the hand, letting her pull him up. “Thanks, babe,” he wheezes, still bent over his arm. God _damn._

“Lance!” Montgomery calls, and Lance groans internally. “I don’t want to hear that language again.” Babe? Or, wait - he said fuck you.

“Hey, chill out, Lauren!” he says nonchalantly. “It’s all Keith’s fault.”

“Lance was just familiarizing himself with the concept of gravity, because he never pays attention in class and prefers to learn by doing,” Keith bites back, shrugging off his bag and dropping it down by his chair, now upright and standing on the ground like it should be.

“Oh, fuck you Keith-"

“Lance!” Montgomery snaps. “Did you do your homework for today?”

Pidge sighs. “You’re dead,” she mutters, abandoning Lance in his crisis and making her way over to her own seat.

“.. May I have a definition?” Lance says hesitantly.

“How about your homework from the week before? Have you finished your lab corrections yet?” Her attention is now completely off of her laptop, and as a result completely on Lance, which is. Well, police sirens are going off in Lance’s brain. “Well?”

“I’m choosing my next words very carefully,” he mumbles, holding up a finger.

Montgomery isn’t amused. “Can you tell me the acceleration of a free-falling object on Earth?”

“... Ten?”

She sighs. “Okay. Keith?”

“Yeah?” Keith says.

“I want you to help Lance out with catching up to the class. Consider it extra credit. And Lance, I want to see you getting full marks on the test for this unit.”

Lance’s mouth drops open. “Lauren! I can’t-"

“I don’t want to hear it, Lance. You have a lot of catching up to do. Keith can help you with that.”

Keith raises an eyebrow at Lance, looking at him sideways.

“This is already a lost cause,” Keith mutters.

And Lance feels himself fall straight into the seventh circle of hell.

-

“No way. And she made you study partners?”

“She made us study partners!” Lance moans at Hunk, slumped over the lunch table.

“Well, maybe you’ll pass the class now, Lance,” Pidge laughs. “There are worse things.”

“Wrong! So wrong.” Lance scowls. “I was assaulted and then punished for it.”

“You said you tripped,” Hunk frowns.

“I could have broken something! I’m a section leader, can you imagine what that would mean for the school?” Lance takes another bite of his pizza.

“I’m impressed you managed to knock over the fucking quarterback,” Pidge snorts. “Especially since you only weigh, like, what, four pounds?”

“One hundred twenty!” Lance scowls.

“Yeah, you’re a fucking twig.” Pidge rolls her eyes. “Honestly, Lance, this is great. Now I won’t have to read through all your terrible lab reports. Keith has my sympathy.”

Lance makes some kind of sobbing-crying noise, poking at his pizza before taking another bite.

Then he has an epiphany. “Oh, my god,” he says. “You know, actually, this gives me a great excuse to go over to his house all the time.”

Hunk raises an eyebrow. “Aaaaand...?”

Lance grins, sitting up straighter. “And yknow, maybe get better acquainted with his sister. I mean, who knows what could happen?”

“Oh, here we go again,” Pidge groans. “Dude. Come on.”

“You’re not wrong,” Hunk gives him. “That could actually get you closer to her.”

“Yes!” Lance pumps his fist up in the air. “I’m gonna start a kickstarter to put Keith down. Benefits of putting him down would be that he can’t cockblock the budding love story that is my future with Allura-“

“Shut up,” Pidge laughs. “Just shut up, oh my god.

“Well,” Rolo chimes in, finally breaking off his conversation with Nyma. Something about psych. They just had a test. “Good luck.”

Nyma raises her eyebrows at him. “Make sure you find out if she has any allergies, first.”

Lance pouts. “You gotta let that go.”

“Rash for a month,” she scowls. “I even told you I didn’t want daisies...”

“I’m _sorry..._ ”


	2. Lost and Found

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m hype for season 6 bruh

Lance loves band and all. It’s great. But one thing he does not appreciate is having it last period, because it means every other Thursday he’s playing until he’s blue in the face - for not only band but for marching band right after school as well. Water: nearly finished. Skin: sweaty. Lungs: fucking deceased. Assassinated. Trumpet: wet.

Like, Lance loves _rain_ and all, too. But he absolutely despises practice in the rain. He’s cold, wet, tired, out of breath, and damn annoyed with the drums‘ constant rushing. He’s pretty sure Harris is two seconds away from making them work with metronomes.

“Hey,” he hears while he’s sitting on the side, drinking water. He chokes and it splashes all over his face and down the front of his shirt - he’s all drenched from the rain, anyway, but he still seizes the opportunity to turn and scowl at Keith.

“What do you want, Mullet?” Lance’s eyes roam across the field. “Shouldn’t you be... running up and down the field, or whatever?”

Keith huffs and crosses his arms. “Let’s study this weekend. You have a lot of stuff to catch up on.”

Lance really doesn’t want to get along with Keith. He really doesn’t. But like, this is a civil conversation. Keith’s trying to help him out. He settles for a general glare.

“I have morning practice on Saturday, but I’m free in the evenings.”

“If you shower,” Lance says. “I don’t want to study my least favorite subject with my least favorite person while he stinks. I’ll get, like, your sweat smell ingrained in my clothes or something. Also, what if I’m partying?”

Keith rolls his eyes. “Are you?”

“No, but-“

“Then it’s fine. You know my address, right?”

“Northwest asshole lane.”

“I’ll text you it,” Keith sighs. “Have fun... walking around with your kazoo.”

“Hey!” Lance snaps as Keith turns to head back to his team. “It’s a trumpet! Respect the trumpet!”

“You know,” Rolo says from his side. “Of all the people to have beef with...”

“Oh, he’s so obnoxious, don’t even get me started,” Lance sighs. “Who gave him the right to be the star of sports _and_ academics? Thinks he’s so great. I mean. In most high schools, the quarterback is supposed to be a complete dumbass. Who does he think he is?”

Rolo laughs. “You need to chill out a little. He’s helping you, isn’t he?”

“He’s torturing me!”

“I think you’ll get through it.”

-

Friday Lance gets to school, and rain is pouring down. He runs from the car to the school entrance, managing to avoid getting wet when it’s still negative ass degrees outside.

But the thing is, today he has math first period. And math is in the portables and it’s. It’s _pouring._

And Lance is really not in the mood to have cold water soaking his shirt for the rest of the damn day.

He considers skipping. Their test is next Thursday, so he really shouldn’t. Then again, math isn’t that hard to make up. But then chemistry is going to be in the modulars, which means he’ll have to walk in the rain anyway, because once he attends econ he’ll have to show up for chemistry. And he doesn’t want to miss econ... plus, if he ditches the first three classes, he’ll be bored out of his mind until drama.

He wants to cry. He really doesn’t want to get wet. Lance turns around, intending to go searching in the Lost and Found for an umbrella he can use for the day, although with the way buckets are dropping out of the sky chances for finding one are slim.

Then it’s the second time he trips and falls right into Keith. 

“Dude!” he gasps, face suddenly on fire. He straightens as Keith lets go, running a hand hastily through his hair. “What is your problem!”

Keith raises his eyebrow. “Maybe you should pay more attention to where you’re going!” he scowls. “You were just standing there, I didn’t know you were going to turn and run into me.”

Lance scoffs. “Well, I didn’t know you were behind me!”

“Clearly,” Keith says pointedly. He steps away from Lance and pushes open the glass doors that lead outside, his umbrella blooming open as he forges his way into the rain.

Wait.

“Keith!” Lance shrieks before the door closes. He shoves one hand out, palm slamming into the door to keep it from closing all the way, wincing at the spray of water that hits his arm. “Come here!”

Keith pulls his eyebrows in and frowns, distrusting. But he does stop walking. Lance beckons him closer frantically.

After a very obviously pained sigh, Keith steps nearer to the door. Lance darts under his umbrella, wrapping his fingers around Keith’s hand holding it up, huddling close to him.

“Protect me from the rain,” he hisses. This is perfect. Keith has all the same classes as Lance on A days. “I will never be rude to you again if today you shelter me from mother nature’s relentless downpour.”

Keith has a complicated expression on his face. He settles for rolling his eyes, turning back to walk toward math. “Why don’t you have your own umbrella?”

Lance laughs. Stupid question. “Why would I need one when you have one?”

“For yourself?”

“This one works fine.”

“I- you know what, I don’t have the energy to do this,” Keith mutters. Lance huddles closer to him, trying to keep his backpack as much out of the rain as possible.

He discovers in this moment, squinting into the rain, that Keith is like a fucking furnace. His hand under Lance’s is warm, soft, and oh so, so small - Jeez. Is that biologically possible? He snorts.

Keith looks at him questioningly.

“You’re really warm,” Lance marvels, grabbing Keith’s arm and hugging it to his chest. Keith flinches and pulls closer to Lance, trying to keep out of the rain. Like, really, usually Lance is used to being the body heat source for his friends on a cold day, but Keith is somehow even hotter. “Why do you wear these gloves? You’d probably be fine without them. You should be less attached to your edgy aesthetic, it would make you more approachable,” he suggests.

Keith opens his mouth to reply, but decides against it, instead turning to head up the stairs to the classroom door.

And then just like that, it’s another annoying thing. Lance is the warm one? Hello? Who gave Keith the right to be like him?

As soon as he gets inside he releases Keith’s umbrella, stepping back and immediately checking his backpack to see how wet it is. The outside pocket is soaked, but his books are probably dry. Then his attention is back on Keith.

“Also, your hands are so fucking tiny,” he laughs hollowly, watching Keith shake out the umbrella before pushing it down to its smaller size.

“What?” Keith looks up.

“I said they’re so tiny. Look at that-“ he steps forward, grabbing Keith’s free hand and flattening his palm against it. His fingers stick out a good inch and a half taller than Keith’s, and he giggles. “Dude, what the fuck. How do you hold your dumbass egg ball with your tiny baby fingers?”

Keith snatches his hand away. “I hold it perfectly fine,” he mutters. Lance tries to reach forward for it again, but Keith raises his umbrella, brandishing its wet tip in warning.

Lance yelps, snatching his arm back before Keith gets rainwater all over it. “They’re so tiny, though,” he whispers incredulously.

Keith jabs him in the stomach with the umbrella before turning away to get to his seat. Lance’s body does something funny, his breath whooshing out as his stomach flips at the harsh contact.

“Ow! Quit attacking me!”

“Shut up,” Keith sighs.


	3. Hotel Relationship

Lance leeches off of Keith’s umbrella for the rest of the day. Portables to the building for econ, building to the modulars for chemistry, modulars to the building again for lunch.

Pidge grins at him when he arrives at the hall outside the cafeteria with his arms around Keith’s waist. He steps away wordlessly and goes to join them, leaving Keith to close down his umbrella.

“Aw,” Pidge starts, and Lance looks at her.

“What?”

“I knew it wouldn’t be so bad,” Hunk says cheerily from her side. “See? You’re great at making friends, Lance, everything will work out great.”

“What are you _talking_ about?”

“Have you been glued to Keith’s side all day?” Pidge grins, amusement sharp in her tone.

“What!” Lance gasps, offended. “It was raining. I didn’t have an umbrella.”

“You love the rain,” Pidge says. “You sure it wasn’t just an excuse to get close to him since he’s helping you with physics now?”

“Okay,” Lance scowls as they stop at the table where Rolo and Nyma are already sitting. “First of all, that was not something I asked for, not something I wanted, not something I planned. Second of all, I like rain, not _borderline hurricanes,_ Pidge. And Keith and I are _not_ friends. I just needed an umbrella.”

Nyma looks up. “Are you talking about this still?”

“I thought the study partnering was just the push they needed and they were finally getting along,” Hunk sighs. “Clearly, I misread the situation.”

“So are you going over to his house anytime soon, then?” Rolo asks.

Lance grins, leaning back in his seat and flexing his fingers. “Oh, yeah, this weekend, baby. Allura, watch out.”

“What?”

Lance freezes, whipping around to find himself two inches away from Allura’s perfect perfect figure.

He drops immediately into a nervous grin, running a hand back through his hair. “I just, uh.... I’m. Talking about... the cheer team of Olkarion high school. I heard they gave you guys a run for your money last time...”

She blows out a breath, raising her eyebrows. “Oh, we’ll beat them,” she laughs. “Just because they’ve got more money, you know...” she smiles though. “I didn’t know you paid attention to the cheer competition, Lance.”

“Oh, yeah,” he nods emphatically, blushing. “My sister was in it before she graduated, so I have a lot of respect for ... you girls.”

“Really?” She steps closer to avoid blocking the space between lunch tables. “What was her name?”

“V-Veronica.”

“Oh! Yeah, I remember her! She was really committed. You’re her brother? I thought her brother already graduated?”

“No, that would be Marco,” Lance grins, becoming slowly more comfortable in the conversation.

“Wow,” she says appreciatively. “Following in his footsteps, huh? Aren’t you in marching band? What do you play? Clarinet?”

“Trombone,” he says proudly. Then he flushes again. “I mean - trumpet. I play the trumpet. I’m a section leader, so it’s pretty important...”

She laughs. “Well, hope you figure out which section you’re leading, section leader.” She turns away from him and continues on her way to her seat with all the other pretty girls Lance wouldn’t mind talking to.

He leans over the table. “Wow,” he sighs breathily.

“Jeez,” Pidge laughs, rolling their eyes. “You have the attention span of a squirrel.” Then she frowns. “In other news, I’m swearing off girls.”

“Uh oh, okay, who is it.” Hunks attention is immediately on Pidge.

“It’s no one, because I’m swearing them off.”

Lance pouts. “But girls are nice. They have long hair and they’re flexible...”

“Yeah, well, none of them are going to date me, so there’s no point.”

“Aw, hey, I would date you!” Lance says.

Pidge looks over sharply. “What?”

“I would!“

“Lance would date anything walking,” Nyma points out.

“Unless it was Keith,” Rolo snorts.

“Is Keith a girl? I think not,” Lance huffs.

“Yeah, it’d probably be easier if I liked boys too,” Pidge sighs. “Then, you know, I’d be able to _date_ someone...”

“Do you not like boys?” Hunk asks simply. He sounds nonchalant, but he has that glimmer in his eye that gives away his true desire - which is to glean every single piece of gossip from Pidge that he can.

“Sometimes. Other times, they’re like Lance.”

“Hey!”

“Mhmm,” Hunk frowns. “So who’s it about this time?”

Pidge pouts. “You know Emily?”

“Emily Gosner,” Lance says.

“No.”

“Emily Chi?”

“No...”

“Emily Gottschalk.”

“Ew, no.”

“She’s hot!”

“Oh!” Nyma cuts in. “Emily Sinclair, the one in comp sci with us.”

Pidge flushes.

“Oh, her - oh my god, I should have seen that coming,” Hunk says slowly, as if he’s having a breakthrough. “Hey, you guys went to that competition together!”

“Yeah, we did.”

“And you stayed there for the whole weekend...”

“We did.”

“Is there something,” Lance grins slowly, “you’d like to tell us, Pidge?”

Pidge sighs. “I don’t know. We were... kind of unofficial. I guess? Anyway - two weeks ago at Kavin’s house I found her with some other guy. And _today_ she told me she’s been dating him for a while, so-“

Pidge takes a breath, and then her face turns angry.

“I’m so over it. I’m swearing off girls.”

“Oh, no, Pidge,” Hunk gasps, drawing her in for a hug.

“I’ll fight her for you,” Nyma offers, eyebrows drawn up sympathetically.

“Yeah, been a while since I egged a house,” Lance grins.

“Don’t do that,” Pidge snaps. “God. But I’m... yeah.”

“You’ll find someone better,” Rolo reassures her. “It looks like she had her own problems to sort out, and you had nothing to do with that.”

Lance’s phone dings, and his attention strays to the new message. It’s not a number in his contacts.

 **Unknown:** Here’s my address

The next message is a link to google maps.

 **Me:** whomst

 **Unknown:** Keith

 **Me:** Sweet are you gonna be there too

Lance adds him to his contact list.

 **Anthropomorphic McDonalds Asshole:** Obviously

 **Me:** Fuck

-

“What are we doing for Halloween?” Hunk sighs. “I kind of don’t want to dress up.”

“Candy, Hunk!” Lance gasps, looking up from the LEGO pieces he’s trying to fit together in his hands. “Of course we’re dressing up.”

“Lance, you’re, like, five feet and nine inches. You don’t pass as a grade schooler anymore. We could just go buy ourselves candy.” Hunk grins, successfully having attached a part to their in-progress LEGO Star Wars rebel fighter.

“Fine, what are we wearing to school, then? Pidge is putting together this whole Roman gladiator thing. I think it might be cosplay, I’m really not sure.” He grins. “I should be He-Man.”

“No, you shouldn’t,” Hunk says sternly. “Why don’t you join Pidge? I’m not in the mood to put on a costume and wear it around while the weather’s still like this.”

Lance pouts. “That’s a good point.”

“You wanna come with me to Roxy’s place tomorrow?”

Lance brightens. “Absolutely. Is she gonna have drinks?”

“It’s Roxy, Lance.”

Lance grins in response.

-

Fuck.

“Keith, I have to cancel,” Lance babbles.

“Why did you _call_ me?”

“Because! You’re probably at practice, aren’t you at practice?”

“What makes you think a call would be easier for me to answer than a text if I was at practice??”

“Look,” Lance says, dismissing the matter. Not now. “I can’t study tomorrow.“

“You know when the physics test is, right?”

“Please don’t tell me when it is.”

“Lance, you need to pass this class.”

Lance grinds his teeth. “Why do you care? Like you even need extra credit...”

Keith growls in frustration at the other end of the line. “I’m just trying to help. You said you were free.”

“Yeah, well, Roxy’s throwing a party-“

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

What, no- “Keith!”

It’s too late, though. The empty line hums back at him in response. Lance groans. Perfectly good Saturday night, the promise of some good drinks and nice girls and loud music and a big place.... and where does Lance have to spend it? At _Keith’s_ place. Allura probably won’t even be there, since Roxy’s throwing a party.

He curses Montgomery for this cruel, cruel fate.

 **Anthropomorphic McDonalds Asshole:** I don’t have practice on fridays btw

 **Me:** Then we could have studied today!!! And I could go to proxy’s party tomorrow!!!!!!!!

 **Anthropomorphic McDonalds Asshole:** Too late. Stop whining

 **Anthropomorphic McDonalds Asshole:** I mean do you want my help or not 

**Me:** Would it matter

 **Anthropomorphic McDonalds Asshole:** Fine do you want to graduate in another year or not

 **Me:** .

 **Me:** FINE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tropes we've covered so far....  
> tripping and being caught by the other  
> sharing an umbrella  
> study buddies  
> aaaaand high school party is coming up ;D


	4. Negotiations

Lance blows out a low whistle driving to Keith’s house. It’s three stories, expansive, and it has a front yard so big there’s no way they don’t hire a gardener or something to take care of it. The neighborhood is obviously richer here and Lance feels out of place, driving his Sienna, walking in shoes with the soles starting to tear.

It takes a minute before Keith opens the door, catching Lance in the middle of picking a single flower from the hydrangea bush near the door. He raises an eyebrow.

Lance snaps his hand back, careful not to crush the flower as he tucks it into his hoodie pocket. “Don’t judge me!” he says immediately in defense.

Keith just turns away from the door with a nonchalant “we keep our shoes off.”

Lance steps over the threshold looking up and around, expecting to see more obvious signs of Keith’s wealthy family, but it’s... sparse. There are a couple printed photos taped to the wall, as opposed to photo frames - an old couch that was obviously once very luxurious maybe twenty years ago, a tv that’s smaller than Lance’s own back home. The dinner table has three chairs and the wood is stained with rings from a lack of coasters.

There’s a fireplace, a crackling log glowing inside, not fully aflame but not fully out. Keith’s kitchen is spacious but just as underfurnished - where Lance’s countertop is always crammed with fruits and pastries and sweets and leftovers, Keith’s is bare, two oranges in a bowl at the corner. Mini fridge. Electric stove with an empty pot. There are flowers in glasses rather than vases in the center of the dining table and no napkin holder.

Lance wants to comment on it, but he figures that would be really rude, and - not that he has qualms about being rude to Keith, but the guy is also helping Lance pass physics. So... he figures he owes it to Keith to not be completely impossible for at least a few hours.

“Are you alone here?” he murmurs, voice falling strangely flat in the quiet air.

“Right now, yeah. Allura’s out.”

Lance nods. “Parents at work?”

Keith looks at Lance, oddly, as if he doesn’t know how to reply. “Yeah. Do you want anything to eat or drink?”

Lance snorts before he thinks about the words tumbling out of his mouth. “Do you have anything to eat or drink?”

He immediately feels bad. He definitely doesn’t understand Keith’s financial situation. Keith is, thankfully, used to it enough that he just rolls his eyes. “Fruit, juice, water, frozen pizza, whatever - I was just trying to be _polite._ ” Then he blows out a breath through his nose. “Whatever. Let’s just get this over with.”

He turns away from Lance and leads the way upstairs.

Lance frowns, grabbing an orange because, hey, Keith did offer.

Keith’s room is just as bare as everything else Lance has seen so far. His closet is open but all of his clothes are neatly hung up, where Lance’s are strewn mostly close to his bed where he can reach them at earliest possible convenience. His walls are blank, painted a soft orange, bedsheets creme and blankets grey. Lance sleeps with five pillows that he takes turns using depending on which one he’s feeling more. Keith has one (1) and it isn’t even _fluffed_ properly.

His desk is clear.

Floor empty except his backpack.

No photo frames except for one on the corner of his desk.

Good thing the bed is messy and unmade, or Lance thinks he’d lose his mind.

“Did you clean up for me?” Lance jokes, twisting his finger to pierce his orange.

“No, I just don’t make things unnecessarily messy,” Keith scowls.

Lance whistles. “Man, you would freak _out_ if you saw Pidge’s room. She doesn’t understand the concept of finishing a project.” He frowns, then, ducking as a blur of white and blue hurtles toward his head. He nearly drops his orange.

It lands on Keith’s extended arm. Keith brushes his finger up against the bird’s cheek. “Uh, this is Blade,” he says.

Lance snorts. “Blade? Edgy.”

“Allura named her, if you want to know,” Keith says.

Lance brightens up considerably, reaching forward to touch her feathers, tipped in striking purple, but Blade shies away from him and escapes to Keith’s windowsill. Lance falls into a pout.

Keith laughs. It’s a soft, amused huff, but - totally genuine, free, which is weird because he’s just so? Grumpy? All the time? Keith rolls his eyes and picks up their physics textbook, flipping it open.

“Alright. Let’s start. Do you know what gravity is?”

“Um, _duh?_ ”

Lance must sound offended, because Keith responds with, “just checking, can never assume when it comes to your knowledge.”

Lance flips him off.

“Okay,” Keith continues, ignoring it. “Equation of projectile motion.”

And so Lance’s excruciating hell begins.

-

Several hours later, Lance is.... gone. He’s gone. He’s thoroughly beat. Keith is trying to help him with his lab corrections, but he just learned an entire unit in a few hours and he’s hungry and it’s getting dark out...

“Lance,” Keith snaps.

Lance groans and flops backward on Keith’s bed. “I should be at Roxy’s party right now.”

Keith leans back and sighs. His eyes wander to the clock above his bed - it’s eight. Lance’s stomach growls. He thinks he’d like that frozen pizza right about now.

“Alright,” he sighs. “But you need to get these done by Monday.”

Lance groans. “What if I don’t?”

“Well, I told Montgomery you’d have them done by Monday, so that’s what’s going to happen.” Lance has activated Keith’s stubborn mode.

“Why do you even care?”

“That’s not your business! Just get them done. It’s not even hard, you’re just not doing it.”

Lance huffs.

Then he stands. “Okay, I’m calling this off, right now. I’m done with this. Thanks for your help, you’ve been great, I’ll be ready for the test next week or whatever...”

“Friday,” Keith supplies.

“Whatever. C’s are passing, science sucks, and then I don’t have to see you anymore.”

“You can’t-“

“I _can_ , actually-“

“This is Montgomery’s decision!” Keith says. “You and I are doing this together, Lance.”

“Montgomery doesn’t have to know!”

“I can’t afford-“ Keith chews his lip. “I need the extra credit. Okay?”

Lance laughs. Like he actually just... loses it. “You?” There are tears in his eyes. “You need the extra credit?”

Keith growls in frustration. He twirls his pen between his knuckles. “I do. Okay? Montgomery and I - I just do.”

Lance sits up, tilting his head inquisitively. “You _need_ to tutor me?”

Keith just frowns at him, unsure of what Lance is getting at.

Lance grins. Because this means he has _leverage._ “Alright, we’re going to Roxy’s house.” Keith opens his mouth immediately, but Lance ignores him. “You’re coming with me, because I’m gonna go have some fun, and if you don’t let me have this I’m not going along with your mandatory studying anymore.”

“You’ll fail the damn class,” Keith scoffs.

“And I am A-okay with that, because I know you aren’t.” Lance grins wickedly. Keith growls in frustration. “Cool!” Lance leaps up off of the bed and grabs his textbook. “We’re going.”

Keith throws his hand up in the air silently. “Fine.” His voice is quiet.

“Have you ever even been out with friends before?” Lance teases as he shoves his work into his bag and makes for the stairs.

“Yes,” Keith clips shortly.

“Really? Incredible. What about drinking?”

“Yes.” It’s impatient.

“No way! And you’re still such a killjoy.” Lance grabs the second orange from Keith’s counter. “Bye!”

“Who are you talking to,” Keith says flatly.

“Blade, the second coolest member of this household.”

Keith raises an eyebrow. He opens a door and reaches in to grab a thin black and grey jacket. “You’re driving me back in an hour,” he scowls. “Or you can just go by yourself. I could care less.”

Lance laughs. “You’re coming to Roxy’s house and you’re coming back whenever I feel like we should, dude,” he declares. “You have too much physics in your head. Time to alter its chemistry.”

“Surprised you know what that even is,” Keith says back. He glances briefly to the light patch on the driveway where clearly there’s usually a car.

“Allura drove?” Lance asks.

“Hm.”

“She can give you a ride back then, I guess?”

“Sure.”

“Alright, sir one word answers.”

“Shut up.”

“Ooh, two that time.” Lance unlocks his car and throws his bag down in the backseat. “Why do you even need Montgomery’s credit so bad?”

Keith chews his lip, sliding into the passenger seat next to Lance. “It’s not important.”

“Cool, so then I guess we don’t have to keep doing this...”

“If im going to this party,” Keith says, “then you’re passing physics.”

Lance whistles. “You make good grades sound like a threat. Alright. Fine. But you gotta tell me why you’re not acing her class if you’re making such big promises to pass me.”

“I _am,_ ” Keith says, voice quietly annoyed.

“Then why are you so being so anal about helping me.”

Lance maneuvers his car out of Keith’s neighborhood. He knows Roxy’s address from when they used to date. “Why are you being so obnoxious about passing?” Keith fires back.

“Because I can’t stand you.”

That leads them into a silence for the next few minutes. The radio is playing softly. It’s when Lance turns into Roxy’s streets that Keith finally speaks again.

“So why drag me to a party?”

“Because maybe you’ll be more interesting when I’m drunk,” Lance jokes. It was more of an impulse, honestly, also he wants to get on Keith’s nerves. He removes his keys from his car and carefully slides them into the inside pocket of his jeans. He doesn’t want anyone stealing his keys again.

Keith follows a few cars behind him as he walks up to Roxy’s glowing house. Music is filtering through the slit between the door and its frame.

“I hope you’re not planning on getting _drunk,_ ” Keith warns.

Lance almost chokes. “Keith, that is the entire point of having a party at Roxy’s house, are you shitting me right now?”

Keith narrows his eyes. “As long as you’re able to drive.”

Lance’s face lights up as he pushes through the door. “Aw, you’re scared. It’s okay, Keith, I‘m planning on hitching a ride back anyway.”

“What about me???”

“Do the same.”

“Your car?”

“Relax.” Lance grins, melting easily into the music and movement. “Where do you think Allura would be right now?”

“How should I know,” Keith huffs.

“Keith!” Lance turns to see Chase waving Keith over. “Didn’t know you came to parties.”

Keith looks tired. He glances back to Lance. Chase comes up to them, sliding an arm around Keith’s shoulders. Keith continues giving Lance a pointed look as Chase drags him away to hang with the rest of the jocks. Lance snorts and sends him a wink. Honestly, he‘s doing Keith a favor - but Keith’s discomfort is also really amusing. Win-win situation?

He hums and makes his way to the alcohol, looking around for Allura or Hunk.


	5. Seven

Lance isn’t entirely sure how he found himself here, but he‘s in a bedroom on the second floor near a closed closet door full of shuffling noises. He eyes the hat as it’s passed to the next girl.

“Time’s up!” Kaylin says, throwing open the door. Christina from the swim team steps out grinning, held by some other boy Lance thinks is an art kid. Hm. She could do better, but alright.

“Keith!” It’s Harriet, arguably the second hottest girl on the cheer team. It’s not that Lance is biased - but Allura really doesn’t give anyone else a chance. Her dark lips turn up to a half smile as Keith eyes her warily. Raucous cheering erupts from the other members of the football team, and Allura starts laughing.

“Harriet, you know my brother’s not really exceptional in this field,” she calls to her teammate.

Harriet winks back at her. “Well, that’s the name I drew.” She beckons Keith forward with one finger.

Lance snorts. He’s not sure if he should be offended or amused - Harriet has _never_ picked him before, so that’s annoying - he leans over to say as much to Rolo. But Keith’s red in the face and walking to open the closet door with a resigned expression. Man, he must _really_ need this extra credit. What did he do, burn Montgomery’s house down?

“Keith!” Lance calls out. “You can say no, it’s okay, we’ll forgive you.”

Keith raises his eyebrows at that, and Lance expects to be flipped off, but Keith just disappears into the closet after Harriet and closes the door.

Whatever, man - Allura’s pulling next.

They continue exchanging laughter and gossip as Kaylin times, and then it’s seven minutes and Keith’s opening the door before she can throw it open herself. The room erupts again at the clear mark of dark lipstick on his mouth, impossible to miss against his pale skin. He just goes back to the rest of the football team, stopping briefly to whisper something in Harriet’s ear.

Lance can read the disappointment in her eyes. He’s seen it enough - girls are like clockwork, complicated but plain easy to read once you learn how.

Spencer realizes this too. “Aw, man, dunno what she expected,” he mumbles as Harriett forces on a smile and goes back to sit near Allura.

“I’m surprised Keith even went that far, actually,” Alin says. “Dude’s mysterious as all hell. I don’t get him.”

“Yeah, he’s not that great,” Lance scoffs.

Allura doesn’t pick him, either - she picks Nate. Hunk claps Lance on the shoulder as he sulks. It’s a couple girls after that when Lance really starts feeling disappointed, because - this game is his _thing._ He’s the fucking champion of seven minutes in Heaven. On the one hand, it’s Roxy’s party, and that means there are at least twice as many strangers as classmates for Lance. But, like, come on.

Then Plaxum draws his name. She’s short but built strong, and Lance would know - she’s among the fastest on Luxia Academy’s swim team. Gave Altea High a rough time for first place last year until Olkarion beat both. Freckles and the kind of perfect hair that‘s rare on a swimmer.

Lance slips into a slow smile as she looks at him expectantly, eyes shining. Sure, why not. He takes in her makeup. It’s not going to be intact seven minutes later. Simple, natural - nice.

Half the room cheers him on as he stands and grabs her fingers, raising them to his lips before grinning and leading her into the closet.

The shut of the door muffles the noise somewhat, enough that they can easily converse now.

“So, want to tell me why you picked me?” he asks.

She tilts her head at him in the dark, smiling. “I don’t know, it’s random.” She shrugs in response. “Drew you out of the hat, fair and square.”

“Hmmm,” Lance chuckles. “In that case, you let me know what you want, sweetheart.”

Her grin stays in place, but her eyes flicker, waver - she’s at least _somewhat_ flustered. “I could, or you could see how far you get before time’s up.”

Oh, she wants to _challenge_ him. “Well, guess I shouldn’t keep you waiting much longer,” he says, before grabbing her shoulders and pushing her against the closet door, wasting no time in finding her mouth. She makes a small noise against his lips - something like exhilaration and surprise, and Lance smiles, immediately letting his hands explore.

So infinitely much better than studying physics with Keith. He can feel all the content he learned earlier that day blowing out of his mind with every tiny gasp from Plaxum’s mouth. She squirms suddenly, giggles bursting out into the tiny space between them, and - _jackpot._

“You’re ticklish,” Lance teases.

“No-“ and Lance attacks. She’s cut off by uncontrollable laughter interspersed with the occasional “stop-“

Lance pulls back. They probably have barely any time left. “Alright, alright,” he laughs softly. “Here we go, time’s almost up.” Then he surges forward, kissing her hard, hands woven into her hair as she wraps her own around him and searches for support against his back.

The door flies open and she stumbles backwards - Lance is prepared. He breaks with Plaxum’s mouth to drop and slip his arm under her knees, using her backward momentum to sweep her up off her feet.

Cheering. Lance grins as he carries her back to where he was sitting earlier. He catches Keith’s eye and sends him a smirk - because he clearly outperformed him just now. Keith just frowns at him, a disappointed... exasperated expression.

He carries Plaxum all the way out of the room to enthusiastic whooping and cheering, heading downstairs so he can dance with her some.

It’s on the middle landing between the second and first stories that he runs into his ex.

“Lance,” she laughs, voice lilting and bubbly.

“Roxy,” he greets cheerily, letting Plaxum down to stand so he can embrace her. “Whose playlist is this? Rap isn’t great for dancing.”

“Tony Carimore,” she supplies.

“Onto college guys now?”

She smirks. “I like mature men.”

Lance scoffs, offended. She snickers and plants a wet kiss on his cheek before heading upstairs.

Lance turns just in time to catch Plaxum’s frown before her smile pushes it off her face. He shrugs the encounter off, giving her a wide smile. “What do you want to dance to?”

Her eyebrows raise a little in surprise and she smiles softly. “Hm. Got your own speakers or something?”

“It’s not hard to hijack a Spotify playlist.”

She laughs.

It’s a good night.

-

“Lance, how the hell do you expect to get home.”

“Driving,” Lance snorts. “Duh? Hey, have you seen my phone...”

“Yeah, I have it here. How’s Plaxum getting home?”

“She’s staying the night with Roxy.” Lance yawns. Then he grins. “Maybe I should too...”

“No.”

He frowns at the blemish in his rosy post-handjob vision. “Why.” He can’t formulate anything more precise than that.

“Look... okay. I’m - give me your keys.”

“Hey, lay off, Keith,” Lance says, annoyed. He pulls away from where Keith’s hands are reaching toward his pockets.

Keith looks up impatiently. “You’re drunk,” he says. As if this is... very important, or something. “Give me your keys.”

“Oh, well I’m not too drunk to stop you from stealing my car!” Lance declares. He shoves his hand in his pocket, draws out his keys, and makes to clamp them in between his teeth.

Keith is way faster than he’s prepared for. And his grip is way stronger than he’s prepared for - especially considering the fact that he has little tiny amoeba hands. His fingers wrap around Lance’s wrist and wrestle the keyring from him.

“Thief!” Lance blames.

“Can you drive?”

Lance’s eyes nearly pop out of his head. “What kind of question is that? I’m drunk, of course I can’t drive!”

Keith nods. “Then I’m driving. Let’s go.”

“Wait! Have you had anything to drink?”

“Like, a glass.”

“Whoa!” Lance clamps one unsteady hand down on Keith’s shoulder. “No driving for you.”

Keith rounds on Lance. “Allura went home while I had to wait here for you so I could get you your stupid phone back. I want to go home. You drove me here, and if you can’t drive me back I’m driving myself back. Now, come on.”

Lance splutters in protest. “You’ve been drinking!”

“And so have you.” Keith is pulling him toward the door.

“Wh-“ This is mind boggling. “Keith, no way, you can’t drive _my car_ and you can’t drive _drunk_ and you certainly can’t do both at the same time!”

Keith turns on him with anger. “It’ll be fine. I want to go home. So come _on._ ”

Lance is taken aback by the storm in Keith’s eyes. He lets Keith drag him out the door, glancing back to wave bye to Rolo. It’s 3:30 in the morning, and Lance is tired and still pleasantly foggy from alcohol and Plaxum, (speaking of which, fuck, he didn’t have his phone on him and wasn’t able to get her number) and he wants to rest. Keith is angry with him. Lance settles into his own irritation, buckling his seatbelt and murmuring worriedly about how Keith is going to get them both killed.

He dozes off while Keith drives. At first he expects Keith’s driving to be rough, aggressive like he is in everything else, but it’s impeccable. Calming. Smooth and fluid - like the car is an extension of Keith’s own limbs - and Lance can’t help the lull that overtakes him as they glide through the silent starlight. Neither of them speak. Keith doesn’t put on any music. Lance is too scared that Keith’s had alcohol and is driving, so he figures the less distractions, the better.

There’s a brief dream he has about swimming, only the pool is endless and Plaxum is next to him but in the other lane is Keith, and Keith is _just_ ahead of him, and Lance can never catch up. Then Keith is shaking him awake.

He’s back at Keith’s massive, bare house.

-

He wakes up with a dull headache and sensitive ears, but far from the worst hangover he’s had.

He only vaguely remembers getting here, but he’s in Keith’s bed, and Keith is next to him sleeping like he’s dead, mouth open, corner of his lips shiny with saliva, still in the light jacket from last night, shirt wrinkled but wrapped around him in all these nice places...

Lance panics silently. No way. No. He’s never blacked out before. There’s no way he had so much to drink he wouldn’t remember something like this - there’s no way he would have had so much to drink that he would even _do_ something like this. He’s been talking to Keith for, what. Three fucking days now?? No way. No. No fucking _way._

Plaxum. He remembers Plaxum easily - and oh, wow, he’s definitely not forgetting her _soon_ \- and he remembers what they did and now he’s DOUBLY sure that waking up in bed next to Keith is - no way in fucking _hell._

He fumbles around for his phone, trying to be quiet because Keith doesn’t have the most forgiving temper at the best of times and Lance would rather not talk to him. He’s still in all the same clothes as last night - so, good, that’s good. A good sign. But no phone on him. So. Bad sign.

He looks back over to Keith once, and focuses just behind him on the table - his phone is lying there, face-down. He hesitates before reaching carefully across Keith, trying not to dwell on how physically close he is to this _fucking kid-_

Christ. Jesus Christ. He’s going to explode.

There’s a barrage of notifications waiting for him. Lance scrolls all the way down to read them in chronological order.

 **Hunky Munky:** Dude Rolo says you left with Keith and your mom says you never made it home - did you actually - ?????

 **London Pridge:** LANCE DID YOU GET LAID??????

 **London Pridge:** Unfair. DEETS

 **Excitemint My Ass: Nyms:** Someone explain what’s going on

 **Excitemint My Ass: Rololololol:** Lance and Keith left Roxy’s party together last night, the rest is up to your imagination

 **Excitemint My Ass: London Pridge:** If you know what he means ;)))

 **Excitemint My Ass: London Pridge:** We need a ship name

 **Excitemint My Ass: Rololololol:** Twice in one nighr, I’m impressed

 **Excitemint My Ass: Nyms:** nighr

 **Excitemint My Ass: London Pridge:** nighr

 **Excitemint My Ass: Unknown:** I think keince or something of the like

 **Excitemint My Ass: Unknown:** Personally I’m a little disappointed Karriet didn’t work out but I can’t say my surprise at new developments is unpleasant

 **London Pridge:** LAAAANNNCBCCCCNNCNCNCCXEXEEEEECECEECEEE

 **London Pridge:** LANCE I WANNA KNOWWW EHOW DID THIS HAPPENENENN

 **London Pridge:** Lance ls

 **Excitemint My Ass: Hunky Munky** oh my god who added allura

 **Excitemint My Ass: Unknown:** Veronica did, actually, just yesterday at the party when I mentioned I talked to Lance about cheer

 **Excitemint My Ass: Unknown:** She said you were an interesting group and I would enjoy getting to know you and I guess thus far I would say she’s right

 **Excitemint My Ass: London Pridge:** DHNJRDKKDDJDJKSKSKCBCJKZCISKDNBDKSKFBRFKSIFSKFISIFIXJBRKEOWIVIDBKAEKIFJSNEJO IF this is fucking hilarious

 **Excitemint My Ass: Rololololol:** Perfect Allura get us that sweet insider information

 **Excitemint My Ass: Unknown:** Don’t make me get or if bef I’m hungover

 **Excitemint My Ass: Rololololol:** So am I???????????

 **Excitemint My Ass: Unknown:** They’re just sleeping

 **Excitemint My Ass: London Pridge:** Bed sharing ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) 

**Excitemint My Ass: Hunky Munky:** I’m still losing my shit over all of this

 **Excitemint My Ass: Hunky Munky:** LANCE

 **Excitemint My Ass: Hunky Munky:** AND KEITH

 **Excitemint My Ass: Hunky Munky:** !??!????? DO YOU GUYS EVEN

 **Excitemint My Ass: Hunky Munky:** REALIZE

 **Excitemint My Ass: Hunky Munky:** I can’t

 **Excitemint My Ass: Nyms:** Ms. Montgomery is a matchmaker of celestial power

 **Excitemint My Ass: Rololololol:** How much you wanna bet Lance is going to flip the fuck out whenever he wakes up

 **Excitemint My Ass: London Pridge:** Oh my god allura ill PAY YOU to film it

Lance slaps his phone down on his thigh, face burning. He’s disgusted. Literally - of all the people to - Keith. Keith.

Lance has a really big fucking problem with Keith, and he doesn’t quite understand _what_ it is - but everything he does pisses him off. He’s at least partly Asian, so he has the good-at-school genes and barely has to try to get good grades. He’s quarterback too, which puts him at the apex of the academic, athletic, AND social spheres of high school. But that’s not even the worst part. The fact that he has everything Lance would love to have - that’s not the worst part. He fact that Keith doesn’t even seem to want all that Lance would love to have - that’s not the worst part.

The worst part is that he literally gives not a single shit about Lance, that he’s so careless and disdainful of his own fucking privileges and still won’t give the time of day to those without them.

Actually, maybe even that’s not the worst part. The worst part is that he’s just fucking _irritating._

And Lance has zero damn respect for people who get so much and still take it all for granted.

He decides he doesn’t want to waste any more time right now. He’s not some girl from a romcom movie and he’s not gonna spend precious minutes in the morning gazing lovingly at Keith’s dumb face. He’s not going to freak out, either, if just to prove Rolo wrong. He really doesn’t want to have to interact with Allura - and that’s a first - and, god, Keith is just fucking ruining everything for him. But he doesn’t want to stay any longer than he has to. Especially if Allura is in the fucking group chat.

So he grabs his shit and he books it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ya girl is going on a 6 week wifi-less vacation in a bit! will be back to updating regularly after that. sorry! hope you're enjoying.


	6. internal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sup ;D  
> im bacc
> 
> slight warning for... what i think they call internalized homophobia? from lance

Hunk and Pidge don’t let him off the hook. He meets up with them at the gym and the first thing Pidge says is, “you’re so gay.”

“I’m _not_ gay,” he snaps. “Jeez. I slept in a different house.”

“You went home with Keith, drunk, after a party,” Pidge points out.

Lance frowns and increases the weight on the hamstring curl. “You know what, I’ve done the same thing with you and Hunk plenty of times. Also? I got laid with Plaxum last night, so I’m not _fucking_ gay.” He frowns, reevaluating his language as he starts his next set. “I mean? Nothing wrong with that, but. You know.”

Pidge shakes her head. “Okay, truth or dare.”

“Dare,” Lance says.

“Bench press one fifty. Hunk’ll spot.”

“Oh, man,” Hunk groans. Lance swears.

“Okay, I don’t want to die, yeah? Truth.”

“Do you chicken?”

“Yes! I chicken.”

“Awesome.” She grins before smacking him on the arm. “Fine. How the fuck did you score with Plaxum.”

He grins. “Seven minutes in heaven turned into a few hours of making out and dancing, plus a handjob, but-” he frowns. “I didn’t get her number.”

“Why didn’t you get her number?” Hunk sounds scandalized. Pidge wrinkles her nose. “She’s liked you for a while now, she must be disappointed.”

“She _what?_ ” Pidge gasps, setting down her water bottle.

Hunk winces. “I’m sorry! She made me swear I wouldn’t tell you guys. But, yeah, she’s liked Lance for a while.”

“Well, she has terrible taste,” Pidge scoffs.

“That’s not true!” Lance snaps. He’s flushing. “Man, fuck, if only I’d had my phone - do you think she’d still want to talk to me?”

“Oh, yeah,” Hunk huffs in laughter.

“Where was your phone?” Pidge says.

“I dunno, apparently Keith had it.”

“Ohhh-“

“Stop.” Lance cuts off Pidge’s teasing. “Shut up.”

Hunk snorts. “Hey, why don’t we ever ask Keith to sit with us at lunch? It’s not like we ever talk to anyone else at that table anyway.”

“Because he’s the worst person I’ve ever met?” Lance scoffs. “Why the hell would he even sit with us.”

“I could ask him,” Pidge offers, ignoring Lance. “He doesn’t care much for the people he usually sits with either, so maybe a change would be nice.”

Lance pushes himself up to look at her. “What the fuck, no. Hell no.”

“Yeah, do that,” Hunk says.

“Hello??” Lance says. “Hello? I’m right here. Can you - I’m not sitting with Keith at lunch.”

“Why is it even such a big deal?” Pidge says, raising an eyebrow at him. “He’s my friend. Plus, he’s studying with you, so might as well get to know the rest of us too. And, you know, Allura’s already in our chat, maybe we can add Keith-“

“No!” Lance shrieks. “Since when are you two even _friends??_ ”

“Since the time we set off the fire together in Physics earlier this year.”

She says it nonchalantly, to which Hunk mumbles, “Christ.”

“No,” Lance scowls. “No way. And you are _definitely_ not letting him poison our group chat.”

“Hey, the group chat is mine,” Hunk frowns.

Pidge raises her hands. “Okay, sure. But two to one on lunch, Lance.”

Lance lets out a frustrated groan. “Fine! You’re trying to torture me. But okay! Fine! This is karma for me asking you for help with Physics! I get it.”

She rolls her eyes. “Ask someone Truth or Dare.”

-

 **Klance is real: Me:** YOU FUCKERS WHO CHANGED THE CHAT NAME

 **Klance is real: Me:** IM NOT INTO BOUS!!!!!!!!!

 **Klance is real: Nyms:** Wow I’m not into bous either we have so much in common

 **Klance is real: Me:** I meant BOYS.

 **Klance is real: Me:** I LIKE GIRLS.

 **Klance is real: London Pridge:** _the truth.jpg_

 **Klance is real: Me:** PIDGE YOU ASSHOLE THATS PHOTOSHOPPED YOU SWITCHED MY MESSAGES

 **Klance is real: Otherworldly Goddess:** If you want I can try to be your wingwoman, Lance

 **Klance is real: Me:** DJJDKSKDKAKDNXJSJ

 **Klance is real: Me:** I hate this!!!!!

 **Klance is real: Hunky Munky:** Yoh said you would kiss a guy though so you can’t deny that this is a very possible future outcome

 **Klance is real: Me:** Oh my god

 **Klance is real: Me:** I mean if a GUY kissed ME and he was a GOOD KISSER then I guess I ou don’t really COMPLAIN but I’m !!! Pretty damn straight!

 **Klance is real: Me:** Hunk you suck you’re supposed to be setting me up with Plaxum

 **Klance is real: Otherworldly Goddess:** Oh, yeah, how did that go?

 **Klance is real: London Pridge:** They got nastee

 **Klance is real: Otherworldly Goddess:** Oh my god. Well, congrats!

 **Klance is real: Bitch Who Broke The Xbox:** Did you wear a condom

 **Klance is real: Me:** SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!!!!!!!

 **Klance is real: Otherworldly Goddess:** Language!

 **Klance is real: Me:** I’m sorry Allura :( you will always have my deepest respect

 **Klance is real: Otherworldly Goddess:** ok

 **I want Plaxum’s number: Me:** Okag this is better that groupchat name was sin

 **Keith prevented me from getting Plaxum’s number: London Pridge:** Agreed!

 **DIE PIDGE: Me:** I HATE YOU!!!!!!!!

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment and kudos if you’d like to see more ;)


End file.
